Let me tell you a story about the day I met Matthew Sebby. It was January 2006. In all honesty, at the time, I was engaged to someone else. It was my first year of college, and I had been working at the Student Union building at Boise State for about four months. I was knee-deep in self-righteous feminism; I thought my three tattoos made me a badass. And then in walked Matthew like he owned the place. My first thought was who is this jerk? Pssh. The first six months of our friendship were characterized by Matt's lack of concern for human sensitivity and my teenage incredulity. But I loved him. I was jealous when he talked about his girlfriends. He drove me home one evening, and I remember feeling safe when he waited for me to get into the building before driving away.
By May, I had broken up with my boyfriend in order to be with him (that's another story of which I am not proud...). By September, he had moved into my apartment. He proposed with his grandmother's ring on Christmas Eve, and we were married on June 16th, 2007.
It has been six and a half years since this whirlwind all began, and sometimes it feels like twenty (is that good or bad?). Either way, happy fifth anniversary, husband. I love you, even though I sometimes fantasize about smothering you. Just like every other marriage, there are ups and downs. You make me laugh. You are incapable of putting your dirty dishes in the sink, but you take care of me when I'm sick. And so we weather on, my dear.
Happy anniversary tomorrow! I hate that I was a stereotypical June bride, but for some reason it makes me feel better that a fellow non-conformist like you was too :).
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